The Interrogation
by Tarafina
Summary: Any guy who thought he was going to date a Queen had better have the guts needed, because Oliver wasn’t letting just anyone get near his daughter. Chlollie!


**Title**: The Interrogation  
**Rating**: T  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Oliver, OFC/OMC  
**Genre**: Humor/Romance/Family  
**Summary**: Any guy who thought he was going to date a Queen had better have the guts needed, because Oliver wasn't letting just anyone get near his daughter.

_**The Interrogation**_

1/1

The boy on the couch couldn't stop squirming and Oliver felt triumph well inside of himself. He kept his smirk hidden, an icy glare piecing darkly into the fifteen year old kid who was near sweating in discomfort. He would too if he were in the same predicament. Four very intimidating men were before him, each with a question thrown at him so harshly, it'd have anybody shaking where they sat. He had to admit though, the kid had guts. He hadn't run out, apologizing for having just remembered he had to do something, anything, else. Yet, anyway. But any guy who thought he was going to date a Queen had better have the guts needed, because Oliver wasn't letting just anyone get near his daughter.

Speaking of… Fifteen year old Darcy Queen sat next to the boy in question, her arms crossed over her chest and a menacing glare pointed directly at her father and three uncles, all of which pointedly ignored the look. It was too damn much like her mother's and they knew it'd have them backing down in no time.

"What grade are you in?" Victor asked, his voice calm but his expression carefully masked in a most dark way.

"Uh, ten," Randy replied, clearing his throat and glancing back at Darcy. "Me and Darce have Math together."

"Darcy and I," she corrected automatically. A habit she'd picked up from her reporter mother.

Instead of being annoyed, Randy simply smiled. In a way far too reminiscent of Oliver when he first fell for his wife. His eyes thinned and his mouth pursed. "Grade point average?" he asked gruffly.

"Dad!" his daughter screeched loudly and offended.

Oliver let the question slide. "Do you like school, Randy?"

"It's… okay," he replied with a slight shrug. "It's required, I guess." He smiled. "I'm glad when the bell rings."

Oliver elbowed Bart who he knew was nodding agreeably.

"Oof," he heard the younger man mutter before he was rubbing his chest. "You play any sports?"

"I'm on the baseball team."

"You take steroids?" AC leaned forward, eyes boring into the younger man. "A lot of kids do, nowadays. Easy high, quick muscles…"

Randy shook his head abruptly. "N-No! I would never. That's illegal, not to mention stupid."

"This is ridiculous," Darcy muttered in irritation.

"I happen to think this is very important Darciel," Oliver returned, staring at her seriously.

She pursed her mouth, letting him no that while she hated that he'd revealed her full name, she'd allow him to continue. Her eyes, however, told him _just you wait until mom gets home_.

He chose to ignore her warning.

"Are you calling some of your teammates stupid, man? That's not very good sportsmanship," Bart goaded.

"What?" he sputtered in surprise, running a hand through his dark hair nervously. "No! Nobody on my team does that stuff!"

"How can you be sure? Have you been offered? Have you ever seen it done? Are you into the drug scene, Randy?" Oliver threw out, all of his words carefully chosen and his tone level.

"I-I- I don't-" He sighed, looking around in frustrated confusion. "Look, I don't do drugs and none of my friends do. I mean… I mean…" He sighed. "I tried a little pot once, okay? But I didn't like it and I never did it again!" he admitted, eyes wide with sincerity.

"What do you think of my daughter, Randy?" Oliver asked, leaning back in his chair slightly, his jaw clenched tightly in a menacing manner.

Randy blinked wildly, obviously surprised at the surprise turn of the subject. "I… Darcy is great! She's… She's pretty and—"

"So you like her for her looks?" Oliver interrupted. "She's just a pretty face to you?"

"What? Of course not. I mean, yeah she's hot- I mean _beautiful_! She's really…" He sighed, lifting his hands to cover his face in mortification. "Your daughter is intelligent and cool and really funny," he mumbled through his hands.

"Dad, I think that's enough. Can't you see you're embarrassing him?" Darcy half-shouted, her arms crossed over her chest and her cheeks reddening much like her mother's face did when she was getting riled.

"Just a few more questions," Bart said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "So you date much, Randy? You a little player?"

"No. Not really. I mean… I mean I've had a few dates, I guess," he replied, sighing as he let his hands fall away and his shoulders slump.

So defeated, Oliver noticed. It was easier than he expected. Soon the word would get around that if anybody wanted to date Darciel Queen, they'd have to face a firing squad of scary and unrelenting men. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. His wife would be home soon and she'd certainly have something to say about the interrogation going on. She was all for Darcy getting out and exploring the world of boys. Oliver on the other hand, was all for her never knowing anything more than boys have cooties and her daddy loves her. Of course, she only ever called him daddy when she needed something and she hadn't looked up at him like he created the stars since she was about seven. But still… He wasn't ready for her to enter the world of dating and this was the only plan he could come up with on short notice. She'd thrown the idea out that she wanted to go out on a date with this Randy guy just that morning and almost skipped off to catch the bus to school before he managed to tell her that he wanted to meet him before any unsupervised dating was going to happen. Sullenly, she'd agreed and here they were.

"You still a virgin?" Bart asked bluntly.

Randy choked on his saliva, his face going red and a coughing fit coming into play right in front of them.

"Oh my god!" Darcy shrieked, glaring daggers at Bart. "Uncle Bart, that was totally uncalled for!"

"Sounds more like her mother everyday," Bart muttered.

"That is completely private and it's obscene that you would ask him that! You barely know him!"

"We're trying to," AC defended, turning his eyes away when his "niece" turned her death glare on him.

"This is not a friendly meeting of minds, this is a freakin' interrogation and it's got to stop! Now!" she yelled, shaking her head. "Mom would never let this happen! The second she gets home…"

"Your mom would agree that we should meet any boy before you date him," Oliver replied calmly.

"This isn't just a simple meet and greet, dad. You're making him suffer just because you're not ready to let me grow up. I'm a woman, I can—"

He frowned. "You're fifteen, Darcy. You're _barely_ a woman!"

Her vivid green eyes fell shut and she pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath much like his wife did when she was trying to reign in her temper before she completely blew up on him. "Dad," she said in a harsh whisper. "I understand that you're looking out for me, but I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I like Randy and he likes me and you… Well, you're just going to have to get over it." She stood up from the couch, grabbing her purse. "Are we done here?"

"Just as soon as Randy answers Bart's question," he replied stubbornly.

Her eyes widened and her teeth grit. "Dad…"

"Take it or leave it. He can either answer or you can stay here and watch TV with your uncles and me," he replied almost cheerfully.

"Uh, Mr. Queen, I don't really, um, feel comfortable, er, talking about this in, uh, in front of…" Randy sighed, eyes turning around wildly as he shifted around uncomfortably.

"Shut up, Randy. You don't have to answer."

"That's not polite, Darciel," Oliver reprimanded, eyes set on his daughter as they exchanged in a staring contest.

She snorted, her blonde brow lifting. "You want to talk to me about_ polite_?"

He sighed. "I'm simply looking out for your well being. You're fifteen years old. You barely know this boy any better than I do. How can you be sure that he's at all trustworthy?"

"And asking whether he's a virgin is going to decide that?" she asked, her voice raising in pitch.

His eyes were beginning to itch, but he'd never lost in a staring contest and he wasn't about to now. It was the principle of the matter.

"It proves whether or not he has enough sense to date you."

"So what, if he felt he was ready to have sex before he met me, that makes him unworthy? Or if he made a mistake and later realized he wasn't ready, he's still not worthy?" She shook her head. "You know what? It doesn't matter what he says, because in the end you're going to decide he's not good enough. No, I'm not ready enough."

"Darcy," Oliver sighed, his shoulders falling slightly.

She shook her head. "Randy is a nice guy and I know one when I see one, all right? I grew up with all four of you! You don't think I might've noticed a few things? He's smart and funny and he likes me for me. Not for the Queen name or- or because he wants to have sex with me!" Oliver cringed. "Or any of that! He doesn't do drugs, he doesn't cheat and he rarely swears. Anything else? You want a DNA sample? A criminal record check? What?"

A door closed in the distance and Oliver unfortunately saw triumph in his daughter's eyes.

"MOM!" she half-screamed.

"Darcy!" her three uncles said in a hushing tone.

Oliver frowned; the jig was up.

As Chloe Queen entered the living room, she frowned at the scene before her. On one side stood AC and Victor, making imposing figures, and sitting next to them were Oliver and Bart. One of which was sitting on the arm of her sofa, which she had told him repeatedly not to do.

"Bart! Butt in the seat!" she said, motioning.

He glanced at her guiltily before sliding over to sit on the comfy white cushion.

On the other side sat a nervous young man who was shrinking away from the large and quite intimidating picture her husband made in the armchair he sat in. Standing next to him, her shoulders tight and her hand clutching her purse, stood her eldest daughter who looked about ready to beat the four men across from her until they begged forgiveness.

"What's going on?" Chloe asked, eyes thinned curiously.

"Our favorite niece Darcy here was just introducing us to her new little friend," Bart explained.

AC shifted around on his feet. "Did you guys here that? I think the phone's ringing," he muttered before hurrying off.

"Is that the time? I told Tiffany I'd be home a half hour ago," Victor excused himself, shrugging slightly at Oliver before he went home to his wife. Chloe frowned knowingly. She just got off the phone with Tiffany, who was putting her and Victor's son Jake down for his afternoon nap.

Shrugging her coat off, Chloe put it and her purse down on the table next to her before walking further into the living room. She held a hand out to the worried young boy on the couch. "Randy, is it?"

He nodded, smiling at her slightly and shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Queen."

"Please, call me Chloe," she told him, smiling.

He nodded, relaxing slightly.

"Anyone care to tell me what's really going on?" she asked, tone serious and leaving no room for excuses.

"Just trying to get to know Randy a little better," Bart explained, shrugging slightly.

Chloe turned to him, eyes penetrating.

"Okay, maybe we grilled him a little." His shoulders slumped. "Come on, Chloelicious! This is baby Darcy we're talking about!"

Chloe shook her head, her eyes turning upward.

With a sigh, Bart shrugged to Oliver. "You're on your own, boss man," he said before hopping off the couch and hurrying out of the room.

Crossing her arms, Chloe walked over to her husband, a brow lifted questioningly. "Oliver?"

He frowned, rising from the chair to stand at least half a foot taller than his wife, but still somehow seeming as though she was the one in charge. "It was harmless," he told her, jaw still tense. "She's only fifteen," he murmured quieter, so only she could hear him.

Lifting up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "He's a fifteen year old boy that thinks your daughter is the prettiest girl on the planet. He's going to be happy just to hold her hand." She nuzzled his chin with her forehead. "If you don't trust him, trust our daughter, Ollie." Her fingers threaded through his hair, playing with it in a very relaxing way. "Do you really think she'd do anything you wouldn't approve of?"

"She brought him home didn't she?" he muttered, turning his eyes down toward his beautiful wife.

She smiled at him brilliantly, amused by his answer. "Think hard, Ollie. Is it that you don't approve of him, her dating, or simply letting her grow up?"

He frowned. He hated it when she was right; which was often; far too often.

Instead of replying, he leaned forward and kissed her temple, sighing in defeat.

"Besides," she whispered close to his ear. "Braydon is over at Josh's house tonight and Kyle is away all weekend for his soccer game out of town," she reminded, voice suggestive and low.

His arms wrapped low around her waist, fingers stroking the small of her back over her sweater. The house was all theirs; well, if he got rid of the League brothers for the night. He forgot his youngest, Braydon, who just turned ten, had asked if he could stay over at his best friend's place down the road. Kyle, thirteen but already acting like he was king of the world, had left earlier that afternoon with his team on the bus specifically rented for their big game. They were staying in a nice hotel over night, playing Saturday and returning Sunday. It was unusual for them to have the place to themselves, which in all honesty left little time for them to enjoy each other's company. What with him off doing his Green Arrow duties at night and playing father/husband/CEO during the day, he didn't have much time outside of that. And then she had her work at the Star City Gazette as editor and then played mother of three 24/7 and Watchtower all night long. Actually, he rather felt like a nap. God, he was getting old. When he felt her hands slide up his back, he decided napping could wait.

His hands slid up her back slowly and she knew she'd won.

"All right," Chloe said, turning her gaze toward Randy and Darcy who had been whispering to each other and leaning in close. "Curfew's midnight and no later. You're one minute late and your cell phone is mine for the month!"

Darcy frowned. "My curfew's eleven," she reminded honestly, her brows furrowed.

Chloe sighed, rolling her eyes. "The oblivious nature comes from you, not me," she told her husband. "Isn't your dad nice? Giving you an _extra_ hour to make up for the interrogation he just put Randy through?"

Catching on, Darcy nodded hastily. "Oh, right, yeah! Thanks daddy," she said, hurrying over to kiss his cheek and then hug her mom briefly before she grabbed Randy's hand and drug him off the couch, practically running toward the door.

Chloe laughed, shaking her head slightly before she leaned her forehead against Oliver's chest and sighed. "She had to grow up someday," she told him.

He sighed, arms tightening around her. "Did it have to be so soon?"

She rubbed his back. "You remember when you met my dad?"

He winced. Not a comfortable day.

"I was twenty-four, Ollie," she reminded, shaking her head. "Just because she's growing up, doesn't mean she's growing out of you. She'll always be your daughter; she's just got to experience life her own way."

He knew she was right, but still. He rested his chin on top of her head and ran his hands around her back soothingly. She felt so soft and pliant against him. And the house was entirely quiet, meaning Victor, AC, and Bart had all bailed. So with his three kids out of the house, his three teammates back to their own wives and children, it was all him and Chloe. Smoothing his hand down her side, he slid it up beneath her shirt and caressed the soft skin of her back. She shivered and he grinned. He loved that he could still get that reaction out of her. Eighteen years of marriage and that heat was still strong between them. He felt her palms journey up his sides, fingers kneading at him.

"Well, the house is empty, Mr. Queen, what are your plans for the night?" she wondered, tipping her head back to look at him through lowered lashes, her green eyes pooling with desire.

He smirked slowly. "Let me show you," he said, drawing her closer, delighting in her gasp as her body melded tight against his and his hands fell lower, cupping her bottom. It was going to be an interesting evening.

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Been awhile, again. I'm working on getting more written. I hit a bit of a block since my return, but no worries. I'm pushing through. Hope you likes this. Reviews are sustenance, readers. Luv yas - Fina!_


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